The Longest Night
by Sara Jaye
Summary: It was the call every detective's family fears, but they'd never expected to get it. When their father is wounded on the job, the Chan children's world is turned upside down by fear and an unwelcome realization.
1. The Call You Fear

This an elaboration of sentence #15 of "Admiration, Altercations and Adventure".

* * *

><p>Somehow, they'd learned to take it for granted that their father's job could be dangerous. They were so used to being there with him for caper after caper, and the dangerous jobs were so few and far between. So of course they weren't too worried when he left to help recover stolen funds from a jewelry store that night, he'd done this sort of thing before and he would have Lieutenant Morris with him.<p>

They certainly didn't expect to get the call every detective's family fears the most. It was Henry who picked up that call, silently took in the information with a solemn face, and broke the bad news.

"Pop's been shot," he said. "Lieutenant Morris is at the hospital, he'll tell us more when we get there."

Silently, they piled into the Chan Van and drove to the hospital. Not a single word was spoken; maybe they were too much in shock, or maybe they knew it wouldn't do any good to panic.

-x-

"He's alive," was the first thing Lieutenant Morris said when they caught up to him. A collective sigh of relief rose from the crowd.

"What happened?" Flip asked.

"Well, the crooks showed up to collect the money," the lieutenant said, "and when they caught us going through the records and searching for evidence, their ringleader got angry and pulled out a gun. He aimed for me, your father tried to talk him down, and..." He sighed. "Luckily the shot was just in his arm..."

"So...he'll be okay then, right? They'll take out the bullet, patch him up and then we can all go home, right?" Flip asked; none of his siblings missed the note of desparation in his tone. "Right, Lieutenant Morris?"

"I don't know," Morris said. "He was bleeding heavily, and he'd passed out by the time the ambulance arrived. I'm still waiting on the doctor for an update on his condition."

"How long has he been in there?" Anne asked quietly.

"It's only been ten minutes," the lieutenant said. "Come, sit down. I think we'll be waiting a while."

Fortunately, they only had to wait ten more minutes before the doctor approached them, his face somewhere between gentle and grim. Henry didn't know what to make of it.

"How is my father?" he asked. "Is he-"

"The good news is, the shot came from a standard-issue handgun," the doctor said. "And we were able to remove the bullet before any extensive damage was done. So his survival is pretty much ensured. However-"

"What do you mean, however?" Flip's eye twitched. "You got the bullet out, you stopped the bleeding, he's gonna be fine, right? _Right?_"

"Flip," Suzie scolded, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him back down onto the couch. "Doctor, what do you mean?"

"Well, he lost a lot of blood," the doctor explained. "Even if his chances of survival are good, a gunshot wound isn't just a bump on the arm. In cases like this we have to consider that the worst could happen." Mimi and Scooter's eyes widened and filled with tears as they clung to each other.

"No!" Flip cried. "You just _said_-"

"I'm sure it won't come to that," Lieutenant Morris said. "Right, doctor?"

"Exactly. But it's best to make sure the family is prepared for the worst case scenario, unlikely as it is," the doctor explained. "At most, he may simply need a transfusion." At this, Anne leapt out of her seat and held out her arm.

"Take my blood, then," she said. "Pop and I have the same type, I'm not scared of needles and I don't even mind resting afterwards!" The doctor smiled a little.

"That's sweet of you, but why don't we save it until we know whether he'll need it or not?"

"Just tell us straight, doc," Stanley said. "How worried should we be? I mean, is our Pop gonna live or should we be calling a funeral home?" Henry lightly jabbed him in the ribs.

"Will you be quiet? Of course he's going to be okay!"

"Well, doctor?" Stanley prompted. The doctor sighed; clearly he was too used to this when it came to detectives and policemen.

"Why don't you all go home and get some rest?" he suggested. "We'll call you when there's a change in his condition." It didn't help soothe any of their nerves, but they knew it was the best he could offer right now, so they didn't argue.

"Let's go, gang," Henry said quietly. "We're all tired, it's late, and I'm sure everything will look brighter in the morning."

"Good idea." Lieutenant Morris put a hand on his shoulder. "Would you like me to come with you?"

"No thanks," Henry said. "If they'll let you, maybe you should stay here and keep an eye on our father. He might appreciate a familiar face if he wakes up."

"Okay." The lieutenant gave the children a worried, sympathetic glance. "But if you need me, call the hospital and I'll come right over."

"Thanks." Henry gathered his siblings, and they left the hospital. The drive home was just as silent as the drive over, and it took every ounce of strength Henry had to keep his eye only on the road.

-x-

They came home to a half-eaten dinner, but even Nancy and Stanley weren't hungry, so they tried to busy themselves with putting away the leftovers and cleaning the kitchen.

"I think we should clean the whole house," Alan said. "Pop will appreciate it when he gets home."

"But what if he doesn't come home?" Nancy asked, tears in her eyes. "The doctor, he said we should be ready for the worst! What if-"

"I highly doubt we should prepare for the worst," Tom said. "The doctor was only telling us what doctors are obligated to. That's how they avoid lawsuits."

"Right," Anne said. "He even said this kind of thing isn't fatal most of the time."

"And that at most he'll just need blood," Alan added. "Still, if the worst _does _happen-"

"It won't," Anne said firmly. "Pop is strong. He'll come out of it just fine."

"But what if he does?" Mimi asked. "Who's gonna take care of us? Henry can't do it by himself, he's just eighteen!"

"My guess is we'll either live with our Aunt Jade or our paternal grandparents," Tom said.

"But there's so many of us," Stanley pointed out. "You know what happens to orphans in the movies, social services always wants to split them up into foster homes."

"_Will you all shut up?_" Flip slammed his hand down on the counter. "He's not gonna die, he's gonna be just fine, so everyone just _shut up about it!_" he yelled, storming out of the kitchen and up to his and Scooter's bedroom.

"Chief!" Scooter shoved his hands in his pockets. "See what you all did?" he scolded his older siblings, and ran upstairs. Suzie put away the last of the dishes and sat down at the table.

"Maybe he's right. All we're really doing is scaring ourselves," she said. "Let's go to bed, it's almost ten and we could all use the rest."

"And let's try to think positive," Alan said. "Worrying about what happens if Pop doesn't make it isn't going to help any of us, and it sure won't help him get better. If we think positive, maybe the good vibes will reach Pop."

Everyone smiled a little. Alan always seemed to have a way of putting everything in perspective, a way of keeping everyone calm with his unflappable zen.

"Alan's right," Mimi said, slipping her little hand into her brother's. "Let's stop being scared and pray for Pop to get better, guys."

"Good idea." Henry smiled. "I'll stay up in case the doctor calls, all of you go up and get ready for bed." Good-night hugs and encouraging words were exchanged all around before they all headed up the stairs, and Henry went into the den to sit by the phone.


	2. It's Two O'Clock And All's Not Well

"Chief?" Scooter nudged the door open and walked in. "Chief, are you okay?" Flip sat up, rubbing his eyes in a poor attempt to hide the fact that he'd been crying.

"Sorry you had to see me freak out like that, Scooter. I know this is even scarier for you, since you're so young," he said. "You wanna sit down?"

Scooter came over to the bed, sat beside his brother and patted his shoulder.

"You don't have to act tough just for me, Chief," he said. "You and me can be scared together, okay?"

"I-I'm not scared," Flip protested. "Because Pop's gonna be just fine, you'll see! All the others were just talking garbage down there, about the worst happening."

"Flip..." It was rare that Scooter ever called him by his name. Flip rubbed his eyes furiously, trying to fight back more oncoming tears.

"I'm not scared," he repeated. _Who are you trying to convinc_e, a voice in his head asked, _Scooter, or yourself?_ Scooter looked up at him with wide, concerned eyes, and the tears spilled over. Scooter nestled against his side, sniffling; Flip felt his shirt being soaked with tears and instantly felt better in spite of himself. Crying wasn't so bad if someone else was doing it with you.

"I wish we'd gone along with him, Chief," Scooter said miserably. "We could've protected him."

"No we couldn't," Flip said. Being made aware of his father's mortality had made him aware of their own. "We'd be dead if we tried anything. Guys like that'll shoot anyone, even kids."

"Why'd he have to shoot Pop?" Scooter wailed. "It's not fair! Pop never did anything wrong, bad things like this should only ever happen to bad people!"

"Aw, Scooter...remember all the times Mom and Pop said sometimes bad things happen to good people?" Flip mumbled, pulling his little brother closer. "You're right, though."

Scooter sniffled, reaching for Flip's hand and squeezing it tightly.

"Just remember, Chief. You've got me no matter what happens, okay? I'll always stick by you." Flip almost smiled at that; Scooter was the best second in command anyone could ask but, but even more so he was the best brother anyone could ask for.

"Thanks, Scooter."

-x-

Anne sighed as she pulled her pajamas on and flopped down on her bed. Even with Alan's comforting words in mind, that nagging worry in the back of her head wouldn't leave her alone.

_He may need a blood transfusion._ She'd give blood to her father without a second thought, but the idea that he was that badly hurt...she shivered, drawing the blankets up over herself and burying her head against the pillow. She felt scared, upset, but most of all _angry._ Part of her wanted to hunt down the creep and bean him with rocks until he was a bloody mess, or even watch someone else do it. What right did some stupid jewel thief have to shoot _her father?_ No right at all, she thought bitterly. _I hope when they catch you they give you a life sentence, you jerk!_

Being angry wouldn't make Pop better, though; she knew if Alan were here he'd say that and she was a little mad that his zen had gotten in the way of her anger. But he was right, and it wasn't like she could _use_ her anger against the guy. A grown man with a weapon wasn't the same as kicking some jerk who was annoying her or picking on Tom.

It just didn't seem real. This sort of thing happened to other kids' families; Anne thought of her friend Melissa's cousin confined to a wheelchair for life after a motorcycle crash, her friend Jason's mother dying in that plane crash, or Tom's friend Gareth and his notoriously troubled parents. _We lost Mom_, she thought, _but it wasn't like this. She was just sick...no one shot her, she wasn't in an accident._

Still, when one thought about it, it was still kind of the same, right?

_No,_ she scolded herself. _Stop thinking like that. Pop isn't gonna die, and it's not gonna do you or him any good to think about that. He'll be fine. He'll be just fine, even if he needs your blood, he'll survive, he'll be just-_

"Anne?"

A soft voice caught her attention, and she turned to see Nancy standing beside the bed. She looked tiny and lost and scared; without a word, she pulled back the covers and patted the space beside her. Nancy eagerly climbed in and the sisters embraced. _Just like when Mom died._

"Why did the doctor have to say all that stuff about Pop dying? I don't want him to die," Nancy whispered, blinking back tears. Anne brushed her sister's bangs away from her face and kissed her forehead.

"It'll be okay. Pop's strong, he'll come out of it like nothing ever happened," she said. Nancy sniffled and looked up at her with wide, sad eyes.

"Aren't you scared, too, Anne?"

"Well, yeah," Anne admitted, "but you remember what Alan said. We've gotta think positive or it's not gonna do any of us any good."

"But what if the worst does happen? There's ten of us, what if they split us up? We've gotta stay together," Nancy protested. Blinking back tears, Anne held her sister closer and rubbed her back.

"Then we'll stay together. No matter what happens, Henry won't let anyone split us up," she said. "But don't think about that, because Pop's going to be just fine, okay?"

Nancy buried her face against Anne's shoulder with a sharp sniff.

"I hope you're right."

-x-

"Stanley? Are you almost done?" Suzie asked, knocking on the bathroom door. She heard her brother spit out his toothpaste, run the water and open the door.

"Sure, it's all yours," he said. Suzie headed into the bathroom and brushed her own teeth quickly, then washed her face and ran a comb through her hair. When she finished, Stanley was still waiting outside.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Normally she'd have teased him about forgetting to floss or clean his ears, but she'd learned that when _Stanley_ didn't smile, it was the worst time to make jokes. "You want to talk?" Stanley nodded gratefully.

"Could we?"

They went back to Henry and Stanley's room and sat down on Stanley's bed. Suzie sighed, leaning against her brother's shoulder.

"We blew it," she said. "This time we really blew it, didn't we?"

"How? It's not our fault some maniac pulled a gun on Pop," Stanley said. "Boy, if I could ever get my hands on that jerk...!"

"I mean, we always thought Pop was invincible," Suzie said. "I feel like we've kind of taken him for granted, you know?"

"Eh, I wouldn't go _that_ far," Stanley said. "Maybe we just took the danger for granted. I mean, think about it. We're always with him on cases and he doesn't usually get called in for this stuff." He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Boy, weren't we stupid, thinking it'd all be okay. Henry and I should've gone with him, or maybe we should've begged him not to go out there, or even told him to be careful, or-"

"Stan." She hugged him, tears stinging her eyes. "It's too late to go over what we should've done, and we both know it."

"I...I know." His shoulders hitched slightly, and he swallowed hard. "The only thing we can do now is tell him we're sorry when he wakes up."

"But you know what he'll say," Suzie said with a short laugh. "_My children, you are not to blame for the perpetrator's rash and violent ways. He is the one who chose to carry a firearm, and he is the one who chose to break into the store tonight_." That got a tiny smile out of her brother.

"Yeah, that's Pop all right. Always knowing just the right thing to say..." He sighed. "Why did this happen to him? He's such a good guy, he never deserved this."

"I don't know." Suzie closed her eyes. All the platitudes such as _sometimes life isn't fair, sometimes bad things happen to good people_, all the advice she would normally give a friend in this situation just seemed useless right now. "Pop was in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess."

"Or that creep was," Stanley muttered. "I just...I hate feeling so powerless! When Pop got arrested in Hawaii that time we nailed the real thief just like that, but this time..."

"I know. This time there's nothing we can do except pray hard and think positive," Suzie said. "And it just doesn't feel like enough."

Stanley sighed, shifting slightly so that his head was resting against her shoulder; she welcomed the closer contact.

"He's really gonna be okay, right? The doctor, he just said all that stuff cause he has to."

"Of course," Suzie said. "Everything's going to be just fine." _I hope so_, she added mentally.

-x-

"Alan?" He felt the tug on his sleeve just as he was heading down the hall. Mimi was standing outside his and Tom's bedroom door, in her pajamas, clutching a stuffed rabbit and looking sadder than he'd ever seen her before.

"What's wrong?" he asked, putting an arm around her. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"No, I can't even sleep. Alan, will you come sit with me? Nancy's with Anne and I'm all alone in our room and I-I'm scared," she said. Alan knelt down to give her a hug, then scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the hallway to her and Nancy's room.

"Of course," he said. While he loved all of his sisters, he had a special sort of bond with Mimi; it was difficult to refuse her anything, especially at a time like this. He walked into the room and sat down on the one part of her bed not occupied by stuffed animals.

"Sorry," Mimi mumbled, setting the bunny down beside Alan. "I should've moved them first."

"It's okay, I don't mind sharing," Alan said gently, he as well as the rest of the family knew how she treasured those stuffed animals. Plus, he reluctantly admitted to himself, it was a bit of a comfort to be surrounded by them. Mimi snuggled closer to him, burying her face in his chest and sniffling.

"Oh, Alan, I'm trying to think good thoughts like you said but I'm still scared," she cried. "Every time someone gets shot in the movies, they always die!"

"Aww, Mimi, that's just pretend. People die in the movies for the drama, it's not the same in real life," Alan said, ruffling her hair. "I mean, yeah, being shot isn't like getting a paper cut, but a shot in the arm is...well, it's like a higher-scale broken bone. It's bad, but if it's taken care of fast it won't _kill_ you."

"But the doctor said he was bleeding a lot," Mimi said.

"Don't worry about that. There's a lot of blood in the human body, I'm sure he's still got enough left to live." _But the human body only has so much blood_, he reminded himself. _And he still might need that transfusion._

"Really, Alan?" Mimi looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes and he felt a twinge in his heart. Now was not the time to give into his worries, not when she needed him to be strong more than ever.

"...yeah," he said hesitantly. "Yeah, he's got plenty of blood, and they'll fix his arm up real good. Promise."

She frowned.

"Are you sure? You waited a long time before you said that."

"Of course I'm sure!" He forced a brighter smile. "Come on, you know me. Always the level-headed one, calm and unflappable. Yep...that's me."

Mimi frowned, shook her head and slipped her little hand into his, squeezing tightly.

"It's okay to be scared." And he squeezed back just as tightly, nestling his head against hers and sighing with relief.

"It's just...it's hard, sometimes, always being the level-headed one," he said. "I'm good at it, but every time I feel anything other than calm, I'm worried I'll let everyone down."

"You didn't let us down when you cried over Mom," Mimi said. "It's okay if you get upset or worried or scared, we'll always love you anyway." She kissed his cheek. "Especially me."

Alan smiled a little, genuinely this time, and rested his head against hers.

"I love you too, sis."

-x-

The phone had rung twice that evening, Grace Van Inkley to check up on them and a telemarketer trying to sell them something pointless; he couldn't be bothered to find out what it was. Henry had considered calling the hospital to speak with Lieutenant Morris, but it was almost midnight and the hospital had probably kicked him out for closing.

Henry sighed. He'd been as strong as he could for his siblings, but now that he was alone there was nothing standing between himself and his own fears. His father was lying in the hospital, seriously hurt, and even the doctor's "good chance" assertion couldn't stop him from fearing the worst.

He sighed again, staring out the window at the cloudy, starless night sky.

"God? I know you're here, even if you don't answer. So you can listen," he said quietly. "Please let Pop be okay. I know, we took it for granted how dangerous this stuff can be, but we never will again, I swear. Just..." He swallowed, fighting back tears. "When Mom died, we got through it, but only because of Pop. If we lost him..."

He sank down onto the couch, swallowing back the sobs that threatened to break through.

"He's the most wonderful father in the world, the best one we could ask for," he whispered, his voice breaking. "If we lost him, I don't think we could go on. Please, God...don't take him from us. Don't take our father from us. Please..."

His eyes drifted to the mantle, photos of the family lined up in a row. Mom and Pop on their wedding day, Pop with him and Stanley as toddlers while Mom held their new baby sister in her arms, all the older kids on the beach, Mom with Chu-Chu resting in her lap, a candid photo of Pop and the younger kids, the family during their last Christmas together.

_It was hard enough to lose Mom. If we lost you, too, Pop..._

He shook his head, buried his face in his hands, and wept.

-x-

Despite his best efforts, Tom just couldn't fall asleep. His pragmatic side was battling his optimistic side; on one hand, it was important to consider a course of action should the worst happen. But he had faith not just in his father's strength, but the doctors as well. He was being cared for at one of the best hospitals in Sacremento, after all.

But even with that in mind, sleep still wouldn't come. Sighing, Tom got out of bed, threw his robe on and shoved his feet into his slippers. Maybe a cup of tea would bring about the drowsiness he sorely needed.

As he was walking towards the kitchen, though, he heard faint sobs coming from the den. He tiptoed into the doorway and nearly gasped in shock. It was Henry, looking more vulnerable and lost than Tom had ever thought him capable of. In all the years he'd known his oldest brother, he'd never seen him cry before, not like this. Part of him wanted to be scared. Henry was always the pillar of strength for the family, the substitute father figure when Pop wasn't around.

But that didn't mean Henry was made of stone like a literal pillar, he reminded himself. _No matter how much you look up to a person, they're just as human as anyone else._

He shook off that urge to be scared, walked over to the couch and embraced his brother. Henry stiffened and looked up at him, face wet and eyes red.

"Tom?" He almost seemed embarrassed, as anyone caught crying would tend to be.

"It's okay, Henry," he whispered, rubbing his back. Henry shook his head.

"You don't need to do this."

"You held me like this all night when Mom died," Tom said, drawing him closer. "Let me do the same for you now." He felt Henry relax, followed by his brother's arms locking around his waist for security.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, but Henry's sobs eventually died down. Tom loosened his hold and sat down on the couch beside him, offering a crumpled but still clean tissue from his robe's pocket.

"Do you feel any better now?" he asked.

"Not really," Henry said as he wiped his nose. "But...I'm glad you came in. Thank you, Tom, I really appreciate it."

"It was the least I could do," Tom said. "You're always there for me whenever I need a shoulder to cry on, how could I not give you the same?"

Henry gave him a watery smile, then hugged him tightly.

"You're something special, you know that?" he whispered. "I'm glad you're my little brother." Tom nestled as closely as he could, warmed from the inside out by his brother's words and embrace.

"You look exhausted," he said. "Why don't you get some badly-needed rest, and I'll wait by the phone?" But his suggestion ended in a yawn, and Henry laughed a little.

"Why don't we both go to bed? The phone's loud enough to wake us up, anyway." But no sooner had they gotten up than everyone else filed into the den.

"We can't sleep," Anne said. Henry sighed, burying his face in his hand.

"I'll go get some blankets," he said. Tom smiled a little. If nothing else, they could all be scared and miserable and insominac together.

-x-

Chu-Chu had wandered through the house for most of the night, peeking in on the various sibling pairs and listening to their conversations. Granted, as a dog, his understanding of human speech was limited, but he didn't need to understand human speech to know that the situation was indeed very bad. He didn't want to think about Pop dying or even being hurt, it was sad enough when Mom died. They were both such nice people with such nice kids.

Most pet owners treated their pets like "just animals", but not Pop. He treated Chu-Chu like one of the family, even gave him an allowance. Sure, most people thought he was a bit strange for that, but Pop didn't care. And he sure appreciated it; a dog never knew when he might need to buy a new bone or come across a nice set of squeaky toys in the pet shop.

He hated seeing the kids so sad. Stanley, the silly joker who managed to find a bright spot in almost everything, hadn't smiled a single smile that night. Suzie, normally so level-headed and serene, didn't seem sure in her assertions that Pop would be okay. Even dependable leader Henry had broken down that night.

Chu-Chu sadly padded towards his doggie bed, turned around twice, then laid down with a soft whine. All he could do right now was sleep.

-x-

And so the night went on like this. They slept in shifts, waited by the phone in shifts, and every now and then one of the younger children would awaken from a nightmare and refuse to go back to sleep unless an older sibling sat with them. At one point (sometime around two o'clock), Mrs. Van Inkley and Lieutanant Morris stopped in to check on them.

"Not sleeping isn't going to make the morning come any faster," Morris said, but even knowing that didn't do much for the insomina. Eventually, they left, but not before begging the children to please get some rest.

It was a little after three o'clock when everyone finally fell asleep for real that night. Under a mountain of pillows and blankets, in Henry and Stanley's room, they huddled close to each other for warmth and safety.


	3. You'll Breathe Again

The phone's ring jolted Henry from his sleep at around seven the next morning. He released Tom from his embrace and slipped out from under Stanley's arm and then the covers, taking care not to disturb his sleeping siblings. Then he_ ran_ to the den and grabbed the receiver.

"Hello? Yes, this is Henry," he said, thankful he hadn't fallen into the old movie trick of talking into the wrong side. "What? ...really? Am I dreaming?" He pinched himself, no, he definitely wasn't dreaming. "Oh, thank God...thank you, doctor, I'll tell them right away!" He put the phone down and rushed back into his room. By now everyone was starting to wake up.

"Was that the doctor?" Stanley asked, sitting up and stretching.

"Pop's fine," Henry said. "He woke up this morning, he's still a little weak but he doesn't need a transfusion. He's going to be okay." And everyone let out that breath they weren't aware they'd been holding, followed by a collective cheer of joy and relief. Flip gently nudged Scooter off of him and leapt to his feet.

"Come on, everyone, let's get dressed and go over to the hospital!" His stomach growled just then, and everyone laughed. "Er...maybe we should eat first?"

They were out of bed, washed up and dressed in record time, going at a speed usually reserved for school days when the alarm forgot to go off. They were just finishing breakfast when Mrs. Van Inkley arrived.

"I take it the doctor finally called?" she asked, looking around the crowd of smiles.

"Pop's okay," Flip said. "He's really okay!"

"We were just going to drive over to the hospital," Henry said. Mrs. Van Inkley shook her head and smiled.

"Maybe you'd better let me drive you over," she offered. "After the night you've had, I think you should take it easy." Surprisingly, her idea garnered no protests, and as soon as they finished eating they filed into the Chan Van with Mrs. Van Inkley behind the wheel. Anxious as they were to see their father, the children ended up sleeping for most of the ride; thankfully it seemed to be all they needed for when they got to the hospital, they were as refreshed as they could be on roughly four hours sleep.

"They probably won't let all of us in at once," Henry said. "And we might have to pull some strings for them to let the younger kids in, you know how picky hospitals are about kids under twelve."

"That's just for people who aren't family, though," Anne said. "They can't stop Scooter and Mimi from seeing their own father."

"They're not gonna stop _me,_" Flip said. "Besides, I'll be twelve in only another month so it won't really be lying if I say I am."

"I'm sure they'll let everyone in," Mrs. Van Inkley reassured them as they approached the desk. "Hello, we're here to visit Mr. Charlie Chan."

"Ah, yes. We've been expecting you," the nurse said. "He's doing better, but he's still pretty tired, so you'll have to come in a few at a time." She called another nurse over. "Janet? Show them to Mr. Chan's room, please." Janet nodded and led them down the hall.

-x-

Lieutenant Morris was waiting for them, just as they'd expected. Unsurprisingly, he looked like he hadn't slept, but he looked quite happy.

"I got some more good news this morning," he said. "They caught the man who shot your father, and put him straight in jail. His sentence has yet to be determined, but there's a good chance he won't be seeing the outside world again for quite some time."

"Really?" Anne grinned. "Boy, this day just gets better and better!"

"So who gets to go see him first?" Mimi asked. "I think me and Scooter should go first cause we're the youngest and it was hardest for both of us last night!"

"But Henry and I are the oldest," Stanley pointed out.

"Yeah, but Mrs. Van Inkley is sweet on Pop," Suzie giggled. Grace blushed and glared playfully at her.

"I think we should do it in order of age," she said. "Flip, Nancy, Mimi and Scooter may go in first." The others decided that sounded fair, and Janet led the younger children into the room.

-x-

Flip's heart felt like a drum beating in his chest as he approached his father's bedside, relief quickly becoming anxiety at the sight of him. _He looks so weary...frail, even_. He was alive, he'd be good as new with plenty of care, but the fact that there was even a tiny chance they could have lost him wouldn't leave Flip's mind.

"Flip?" Nancy looked up at him, eyes wide with concern, and he shook his head. _This is no time to be a wimp!_

"It's okay, Nancy," he said as they walked over to stand beside the bed. Their father turned his head to the side and smiled wearily.

"It's good to see you, my children," he said quietly, and that was it; Flip fell upon his father's uninjured side, hugging him tightly as he laughed with relief.

"Don't ever scare us like that again!" he mock-scolded.

"Oh, Daddy...!" Nancy buried her face in her hands, sobbing with relief as she stood on her tiptoes to hug her father as well. Charlie just laughed, running his good hand over both of their heads.

"I apologize for having worried you," he teased. Mimi and Scooter just smiled as they took their turns hugging Pop. Even weakened by injury, he was still his good old self with his usual sense of humor.

"We love you so much," Mimi said.

"Yeah, you're the best," Scooter added.

"Where are your siblings? I would like to see them as well," Charlie said.

"But the nurse said we should only come in a few at a time." Nancy sniffled and rubbed her eyes. "She won't let anyone else in." Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Tell her the patient demands it," he said with a chuckle. "The more, the merrier, is what I say."

"Okay!" Flip opened the door. "Guys, come on in. Pop says he wants to see everyone at once!"

"Well?" Henry glanced towards Janet, who only shrugged.

"Hey, if it's what the patient wants. Just keep quiet, other patients are trying to rest," she said. The rest of the kids, Grace and Lieutenant Morris filed into the room.

"Glad to see you're on the mend, Pop," Alan said. "But we all knew you'd make it, right, gang?"

"Oh, of course," Suzie said. "We weren't _that_..." She trailed off; the children looked at each other in silent reminder of what they'd promised in their worried conversations and fearful prayers last night. "We were pretty worried," she said.

"Pop, we're real sorry," Stanley said. "I mean, we should've been more worried when you left."

"My children," Charlie said, "I know what must be going through your minds right now, but there is no need to apologize, and no need for guilt. It is not your fault a crazed delinquent carrying a firearm broke into the jewelry store and shot me. The blame rests entirely with him."

"That's right," Lieutenant Morris said. "Detective Chan, you'll be happy to know that the criminal is behind bars as of this morning."

"And it's safe to assume that he'll be spending the rest of his natural life imprisoned," Tom said.

"That is indeed good news," Charlie said. "So I hope there will be no more blaming yourselves or feeling guilty, children."

"If you say so, Pop," Henry said. "But just the same, we're gonna spend the whole day with you right here."

"I don't think so," his father said. "While I appreciate the offer, I strongly suggest you go home and get some rest." The children exchanged glances.

"How'd you know?" Anne asked.

"I don't have to be a detective to know when my children are exhausted," he teased. "The dark circles under your eyes are a dead giveaway." Stanley's palm met his forehead with a loud smack.

"I _knew_ we shoulda let Suzie use her makeup on us!"

"Boys don't wear makeup!" Scooter protested.

"Never mind," Mrs. Van Inkley laughed. "Henry, why don't you and your siblings go home? I'll stay with your father." She took Charlie's hand and squeezed it tightly, and the children nodded.

"Come on, gang," Henry said. "We'll stop by later, though, okay Pop?"

"That would be wonderful," Charlie said. The children each gave their father one last hug before leaving the hospital and driving home. Once home, they fell into their beds and fell into a deep slumber.

At six o'clock, they went back to the hospital to visit their father again and made plans to go on a wonderful vacation once he was fully recovered. They told jokes, discussed some of the family's favorite TV shows, the older kids talked about some song ideas for their band.

It was one of the most wonderful evenings they could have spent in a hospital.

-x-

"Well, the doctor says he'll be good to come home in two days," Henry said as they sat down in the living room. Tom nodded, nervously rubbing at his arm.

"I must ask...does anyone else feel a bit foolish for worrying ourselves sick last night? After all, deep in our hearts we knew everything would be fine, that we had no reason not to believe the doctor when he said Pop had a good chance of survival," he said. "Then again, I suppose our reaction was born more from shock than a lack of knowledge."

"In other words, we were more scared that it _happened_," Alan said. "Makes sense."

"Hey, I really _didn't_ know! That doctor really had me scared that Pop was going to die!" Nancy protested.

"Us, too," Mimi and Scooter added. Henry placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

"I think Tom's right, but I also think Nancy's right. See, when something really scary happens, fear kind of takes over. The part of you that knows it's not as bad as it seems kinda gets shouted down by the rest of you," he said."

"Right," Suzie agreed. "Even if in our hearts we knew Pop would pull through, our fear kind of latched onto the whole _very slim chance_ business."

"Yeah, it kinda just...grabbed a hold of us," Anne said. "People aren't rational when they're scared."

"Not to mention nothing like this ever happened to us before," Stanley added.

"Right." Flip looked around the room at his siblings. "And listen, sorry I got all angry at you guys last night. It's just..."

"You really look up to Pop," Anne said. "We understand. I'd be the same way if something ever happened to Suzie."

"As would I if a similar predicament ever befell Henry," Tom added.

"Let's not think about last night," Nancy said. "Everything's gonna be just fine and that's the important part." She yawned. "I sure am sleepy, though."

"Me too," Alan said. "You'd think we wouldn't be after all the sleeping we did this afternoon...and it's only nine, besides!" But there was no sense in denying their bodies the rest they sorely needed, so they said goodnight and retired to their respective bedrooms. Only Henry and Tom lingered a bit longer.

"Thanks," Henry said. "You know, for last night. And for not telling anyone just _how_ scared I got."

"I would never seek to embarrass you by revealing a personal secret. Whether you confide in the others is your choice and yours alone," Tom said.

"I know it must've been weird seeing me break like that," Henry sighed. "I know I don't need to be a rock all the time, but still..."

"Actually...seeing you so vulnerable made me feel less so myself," Tom confessed. "And the fact that you allowed me to console you rather than shoving me away certainly helped. Henry, I always want you to feel comfortable coming to me if you need to. I want to be as much a comfort to you as you always are to me."

"Tom..." Henry pulled him into a tight hug, closing his eyes and smiling. "Thank you. No one could ask for a better little brother than you."

They remained in that warm embrace for a long moment, then said goodnight and went to their respective rooms. Henry sighed as he laid down on his bed and glanced towards the window, staring out at the clear night sky.

_Thank you, God_. He turned his gaze to Stanley, whose head was bowed as he whispered something similar.

That night, they slept more peacefully than they'd ever slept in their lives.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong> WHEW! My very first completed chaptered fic in who knows how long? I was originally going to post this as a oneshot, but it got LONG.

All right, first things first. I didn't do a ton of extensive research on gunshot wounds since I knew I wasn't going to go into the gory details of the wound and the removal of the bullet. I just used common sense; a bullet from a standard handgun isn't like a heavy metal slug, but it's still a big deal and there will be blood.

Lieutenant Morris ended up playing a bigger role in this than I thought, I like to imagine he and Detective Chan are rather good friends. And of course, Mrs. Van Inkley shows up again. :) I had fun playing with relationships that are seldom explored in-series, too. And expanding on the existing bond between Flip and Scooter.

I gave Chu-Chu his own section when I realized there was no way to add him to another scene without it seeming shoehorned. And he's one of the family, so he deserved a little insight.

Originally I was going to have Flip break down and cry during the scene with the kids in Mr. Chan's hospital room, but it just didn't seem to want to be written even when I got the wording just right. So I changed it to Nancy crying instead.

And yes, those names in Anne's section are OCs. They never mention any of the kids' school friends in canon, and I've had those names and personalities for them in mind for some time now.


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